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Dead Frontier/Issue 66
This is Issue #66 of Dead Frontier by Walkerbait22, titled Rumor. ''This is the finale of '''Volume 11.' Issue 66 - Rumor "We've got a room just for the kids, and we could always use more supervisors," Alexander says. He sits at his desk, with Lienne smiling across from him. "Joan and Beth aren't really...the um...the most well-liked. The kids find a hard time bonding with them. After Isabelle's death, they could really use someone new." "Isabelle?" Lienne asks. "She taught the smaller children, and she was also a part-time supervisor. She killed herself last week, tragically." "Wow. Oh. I'm sorry." There’s a short pause as Alexander sips at his cup of coffee. "If I may ask, how long have you been working with children?" "I wasn't like a teacher or anything, but I worked at this daycare for a few years. Always tried my best to make sure they liked me. My time there went pretty well, I think." "'Your time there?' Was there an issue?" "No, no. I wasn't fired or anything. I worked there when everything fell apart. It was overrun." "Jesus," Alexander says, rubbing his face. "With...with the kids and everything?" Lienne nods and looks down at her hands. She picks at the polish on her fingernails. "Not a pretty sight. Not at all." "You witnessed it?" "I saw the aftermath." Just the mention of it makes her mind flash back to that day, and she wishes she can block them out. But she never can. "That's just terrible. Wow. But Lienne, you'd be doing us a great service by becoming a supervisor. These kids are the future of the Regency." "Yeah, I'd love to." Alexander smiles and holds out his hand. She shakes it. ---- The library is unbelievably huge, with an amazing selection of books, some even in pristine condition. A few tables lie in the middle, and a small amount of people sit around them, reading or chatting with each other. Billie runs her fingers along the bindings of a few books sitting on a mahogany shelf. "How do you even choose?" Devon asks as she trails Billie. Devon stops to retrieve a random book, realizes it's George Washington's biography, and quickly slips it back in it's space. "Don't know," Billie responds. "But I do know I want to live here." She turns to see Chloe far behind them, flipping through a thick hardcover. "What's that?" she asks, and Chloe turns her head. "Oh, it's..." Chloe responds, and lifts the book to show off the cover. In big, bold letters it states: BIOLOGY: THE SCIENTISTS, THE SECRETS. "It's nerdy, but..." "Hell yeah, it's nerdy," Devon responds. Chloe takes a few steps toward them, simultaneously flipping through the pages and talking. "Don't you just think it's interesting? How we work and everything? All the nuts and gears and all of that complexity? We know all of this stuff--" She taps the book with her finger. "--yet we don't know nearly enough about this virus. It's amazing...am I alone here?" "You're definitely alone here," Devon remarks. "Ugh, whatever. One day you'll get it." They continue on, picking up a few varied pieces of literature, when a young man--probably no more than 14 or 15--approaches them. "C-can I help you, l-ladies?" he says, obviously making a conscious effort to control his stuttering. He has a full head of brown hair and a bright, welcoming smile that seems a bit forced. "Oh, no thanks. We were about done...?" Billie says. "Jake R-rice. Like the food but less t-t-tasty." "Infected may think otherwise," Devon assures. "T-touché. But I don't plan on being eaten any t-time soon. Anyways, I'm just th-the assistant librarian here, lending a helping hand." "What's wrong with your voice?" Devon blurts out, consequently receiving an elbow to the ribs from Billie. "I just want to know. Gosh." "Perfectly valid question, ma'am. It's just a st-stutter, I'm working on it, th-though. My mother s-says it makes me s-special but she's a pathological liar s-so forget whatever she s-says." He smiles as they chuckle at him; that joke's always a success. "I know you s-said you were finished but I'd like to show you around anyway. C-cool?" Jake leads them around, showing them the different sections of books and also talking a bit about himself. He's only fifteen, and came to the Hyatt with his mother Aubrey. In his mother's words, he's a "ball of creativity" too, with joys of writing, painting, drawing, and reading. A lot of those talents he perfected while shut in his room, for he was too afraid to go out and make friends due to the self consciousness his stutter provided. Now at the hotel, he's forced himself to put himself out there and actually talk to people, hoping to break out of that shell that's been building around him ever since he can speak. Still, he admits his natural shyness does sometimes make him hold him back. "I only do th-this job 'c-cause I like books, like, a lot," he continues. "I'd rather be like Marsh and Porter and those guys, th-though, fighting the dead and shit." "You can't?" Billie asks, legitimately intrigued. "Nope. Alexander s-says no way. I'm too young ap-ap-p-apparently. Shit, that was a bad one. Sorry." "That's total bull. As long as you can manage a gun, you should be able to do whatever." "I wish. But Alexander's word is Alexander's word, and you c-can't even think about changing it." ---- An older man with a head of bright white hair and a face plagued by wrinkles adds a sprinkle of salt to a pan containing a brown-colored dish. On the counter to his left, several people sit, including Cole, Billie, Robbie, and Tora, observing as he cooks. Around his waist is a red apron stained with a variety of sauces and spices. “Now everyone, this part’s the most important,” the man says, carefully picking up a container holding a bright-orange spice. “The paprika. It absolutely makes the dish. Trust me.” He adds a bit very carefully and snaps the container shut, completing a small bow afterwards. “And that’s all there is to it.” There’s a few small claps and mutters of thanks as he goes down the counter, serving each person one by one. “Thanks, Joe,” Cole says as the mixture is ladled into his bowl, the last to be served as he sits at the end. “You’re very welcome,” Joe says with a bright smile, but it fades almost immediately as he finally gets a good look at Cole. “Wow. That is astounding...” “Um...what?” “I-I’m sorry. You just look a lot l-like my grandson. It’s...it’s just uncanny. I apologize, truly. Enjoy your food.” “Oh, it’s fine,” Cole assures. “Your grandson; does he live here?” “No, no. Michael passed, unfortunately. Only 21. But that darn bite, it’ll get ya. Fever takes you out before you know it,” Joe says, his voice still somewhat cheery but the dejected undertones evident. Sitting next to Cole, Billie frowns at this. “But I’ve still got my Charlotte, and I’m grateful for that," Joe continues. "With her brother gone she hasn’t been the same, but we’re getting past it. We are...Oh, lord, I’m blabbering again. I’m sorry. And you two, such good listeners and so young. Need more young people like you, especially now...” He takes the now-empty pan and sets it in the sink behind him. “What are you...twenties?” “Twenty five,” Cole says. “Nineteen,” says Billie. Joe nods his head at this and crosses his arms. “Me and my wife were seven years apart, not too different from you two. But young love’s a powerful thing, I’m sure you know.” Cole and Billie glance at each other with raised eyebrows. “That’s...nice,” Cole says, pointing between him and Billie: “But we’re not...” “We’re not together,” Billie finishes. Joe slaps his forehead with the heel of his hand. “When will I just get it together? I’m sorry, it was just my intuition. Ah, I feel like I’ve already embarrassed myself enough, so I’ll leave you two.” Billie thanks him again for the food as he leaves. Robbie leans in from next to Billie and whispers: “Y’know, I was planning to be an ordained minister, so whenever you need me for the wedding, let me know.” Next to him, Tora laughs. Billie tries to look annoyed but ends up smiling herself. They end up chatting about their interviews with Alexander, praising Joe’s food and how they’re still so awestruck by the Hyatt. As Cole is revealing that his interview has yet to be conducted, someone calls Joe’s name from across the room. Joe removes his apron and walks over to the heavy-set brown-haired woman that called his name. Her eyes are prickled with moisture. Joe notices and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Aubrey, Aubrey...what is it?” he says. “It’s about Charlotte,” Aubrey responds meekly. “Charlotte? What about Charlotte?” “Marsh just got back. He told us...” Joe’s warm expression from before is gone, now filled with a disbelief and sadness that’s ready to boil over. Any pretense of bravery on his part is gone, and he asks weakly: “She’s okay, yes? Aubrey, you need to tell me that she’s fine. Please do that for me.” “Marsh said there was nothing he could do. Porter and James, too. They didn’t make it. He said there were too many, and there was just no way...” ---- Marsh finishes going over the story, biting his fingernails and pacing throughout Alexander’s office. He stares down at the red carpet as he refuses to look at his superior. Marsh is absolutely relieved once he’s done recounting the events, no longer having to relive the stress of being outnumbered and hopeless. He can already tell: each of their distinctive screams will be burned into his mind forever. Their faces right before their demise etched into his memory. “What do we do?” Marsh asks, breaking the burdening silence. “We move past this,” Alexander responds simply. He takes a long drink of water and pats his lips with a napkin. “That’s not what I meant.” “Then what do you want me to say? What can I possibly say? This is a tragedy, plain and simple, and that’s how we’ll present it to everyone. Things like this happen, there’s nothing we can do to prevent them, and we move on.” “And now that we have three soldiers dead, you’re planning to tell them about Roxie?” Marsh adds. “Of course not. That’d cause unnecessary questions and panic. We don’t need that right now, not after this.” “Then when, Alexander? When? Because this seems to be the perfect time. We let everyone know, there is a threat out there, and we need to defend ourselves if the time comes. I mean, Charlotte was our best sniper for God’s sake. W-we can start recruiting and training and so many--” Marsh begins, ready to delve into a rant, but he’s cut short when Alexander lifts his finger. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Calm down, compose yourself. Alright?” Marsh sighs, irritated, but nods his head. “Good,” Alexander continues. “Our relations with Roxie are going just fine. Don’t you agree?” “No, I don’t,” Marsh replies firmly. “You better start. Because this discussion is over.” Cole’s ear is practically pressed against the door of Alexander’s office when he hears Alexander promptly end the conversation. He’s only here for his interview, but learns more than he probably should have. His breath is caught in his lungs as he pulls out the most important phrases, storing them in his mind. But then he hears Marsh’s footsteps approaching the door and quickly snaps back to reality. He backs away from the door and smoothes down the wrinkles on his shirt, trying his best to act natural but probably failing. The door swings open, almost whacking Cole in the face, and Marsh storms out. He mutters “Move...” as he briskly pushes past Cole. “Sorry,” Cole replies absentmindedly. He peeks his head in to see Alexander cleaning his glasses. Cole clears his throat, prompting Alexander to turn his head and smile. “Almost forgot,” Alexander says. “Come on in.” He gestures to the chair; Cole closes the door behind him and sits. “So, what’d you hear?” Alexander asks abruptly, skipping all of the pleasantries. Cole’s grip instinctively tightens on the arm rests, but his face gives nothing away. He feigns an expression of confusion. “Excuse me?” “I’m rather offended. Do you think I’m an idiot?” “I-I’m sorry. I’m really confused right now.” Alexander’s face softens, and he backs off a bit. Maybe just his paranoia. “Forget about it. It’s nothing, honestly. Let’s continue with procedure, hm?” They proceed with his interview, with Alexander asking all of the standard questions and getting to know him a little better. But, throughout the entire half an hour, one question won’t stop nagging him: Who the hell is Roxie? Trivia *First appearance of Jake. *First appearance of Joe. *First appearance of Aubrey. Issues Category:Dead Frontier Category:Dead Frontier Issues Category:Issues Category:Walkerbait22's Stories